


Sons of Fathers and Fathers of Sons

by AltaVega9



Series: Konoha Daddies [1]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Angst, BAMF!Hinata, BeingADadIsHarder, BorutoBeingBoruto, BossBichhSakura, DadsBeingDense, DrunkGaara, Gen, HimawariScaresSasukeShitless, Hurt!SeventhHokaga, SaucekayIsCapableOfCute, ShikadaiSnorts, SonsBeingAsses, TobiramaIsNotPleased, UzumakiFamilyValues, hurt!Naruto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:49:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24471562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltaVega9/pseuds/AltaVega9
Summary: They think being Hokage is hard. Well, it is, but try being a dad on top of that. Naruto, Shikamaru, and Sasuke try and navigate this wild, unforgiving "Daddy" thing. Give them a round with Kaguya any day.
Relationships: IfYouSquint - Relationship, NaruSasu, SafeForAllAudiences, ShipsWelcome
Series: Konoha Daddies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767553
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	1. The Limit Does Exist

Naruto blinked, frowning in stages until his mouth was completely concave. He couldn’t _read_ what was on the screen.

He raised a hand and rubbed his eyes before taking a second look. He _could read the words_ in Shikamaru’s report, just not understand them.

Huh.

Last time he checked, words actually made sense—they meant something. But right this moment, it seemed like his brain had exited the building. How was any of that fair? Much less, how was that even possible?

He sighed.

He had to stop talking to himself when he was alone, tired, smelling of ink, and in desperate need of a full body massage. Maybe Lee would drop by and give him some--

That wasn’t right. He tended to ramble when he wasn’t thinking right.

He returned to his computer. He tried to piece together what he was sure of:

Sunagakure was working on a trade agreement with Konoha on iron ore. The terms of agreement stated that the contract would be enforced for an initial period of three years. Gaara would personally oversee Suna’s cooperation. The Kazekage was coming to Konoha for the official memorandum of agreement to be signed.

Something sounded redundant but he couldn’t be sure what exactly and why.

What else was there? Naruto shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

Everything _hurt._ He tried to push forward.

No dice. That was as far as he was going to get.

The further down Naruto scanned the document, the more his eyes seemed to want to _burn:_ following the short, snappy sentences caused his vision, which had been turning bad since all of one hour ago, to become completely blurred. _That couldn’t be good._

Nothing was sinking in as well. Naruto was sure he read a part about “iron deposits” and “processing plants,” but couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why that was important.

And that was crazy. He had been trying to read everything (it was twenty damn pages long), and he was only at (already) page ten. He was never going to be smart or clever, but damn, Jiraiya-Sensei had taught him enough to be able to understand letters when they were strung together.

Which meant: He was now currently _spent._

He took both hands off his keyboard and rubbed his eyes with his palms. He ended up sinking his face into them. The darkness was soothing.

Simple as despair always was, the fury of his temples, which had been only been aching since _all of a while back_ , rode into the scene, pounding with intensity, causing him to hiss.

He felt hollowed out, almost like his chakra had been depleted beyond belief, and with Kurama having had his back for more than ten years, this was not just impossible, but improbable.

A quiet knock brought him back after a few minutes and he looked up into the sharp, sympathetic eyes of Shikamaru.

“Oy.”

“What?”

He hadn’t even noticed that the man had already walked in and was standing less than a meter from his desk. Damn, even a kid could possibly one-up him.

He let out a moan, but stifled it just as he realized what the past owners of his seat might say. He’d bet Tobirama would chew him out for being so soft.

“You should go home. Hinata and the kids are waiting.”

Naruto said nothing. He deliberately avoided his friend’s eyes. Instead, he gave a small, general nod and looked back at his monitor, his frown deepening. He resumed typing, soft clicks punctuating the silence. He kept glancing back at the report he was supposed to have grasped. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he wondered if Shikamaru knew he hadn’t read the entire report yet.

He wished he could angle the screen away from Shikamaru (it was diagonal to where his adviser stood), but decided not to.

That would be too obvious.

“You’ve skipped dinner. _Again_.”

Patience almost non-existent from fatigue, Naruto did not have the energy to deflect. Or take a verbal beatdown.

“I did eat,” the Hokage muttered, nodding at a few cups of instant ramen. “It’s not Ichiraku, but it does the job.” Trying to look unbothered, he chuckled, still not looking away from the computer. “Don’t look so grim.”

It was Shikamaru’s turn to frown, his voice flat and relentless. “I counted them. There were six.”

Naruto finally looked up. “Huh?”

“Six. _Yesterday.”_

He looked to his side. There were, indeed, still six cups, heaped one on top of the other, on the side of his table.

“You’re too observant,” Naruto acquiesced lightly, smiling, before going back to work. “I paid the right guy.”

Shikamaru shook his head, but his eyes never left Naruto’s face. He knew how he could pressure him: staring and loads of silence.

Naruto’s smile became wan. “Gaara’s coming tomorrow. I was too preoccupied with other things the last few days.” He swallowed. “My fault. Work’s not going to solve itself. I wish I had two sets of hands---oh wait, I…”

His vision flickered, and he fell silent.

Shikamaru put a hand out and shook his shoulder: “Oy, are you all right?” His eyebrows tightened like thunderbolts.

Naruto responded with a chuckle. “Yeah. I remembered I even have four sets. Of hands. I can even do more, hahaha. But the toll on my body would be unbearable. Even with Kurama, I don’t like it.” 

Shikamaru withdrew his arms and folded them over his chest. “Sure.” He volunteered this stiffly, and Naruto knew he was in trouble. Scrolling through the report, he willed himself to forget about what just happened. He squinted at the screen.

And then, on cue, his left eyelid started to shudder, before ultimately spasming.

He blinked. “I can’t face the Kazekage and not know what to talk about. This has been in the pipeline for months. He’ll get on my case. Not to mention, you will too. For looking and sounding like a moron.”

Shikamaru bit down on his lip. “Gaara, you mean.”

To which Naruto nodded. “Isn’t that what I said? What’s this about ‘pipelines’ again?”

It was so hard to be a friend and a political adviser to the same friend.

Some days, Shikamaru dug in his heels and watched the blond spread himself too thin. There were things that had to be done, concerns that had to be taken cared of. But today, he was tired, tired of watching Naruto run himself into the ground.

The last few weeks had been hectic: business ventures, security concerns, training exercises with Iwa and a slew of letters from the Mizukage. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, Shikamaru was scared, and with good reason as well. Jinchuriki or not, even with the Kyuubi to supplement his chakra, and the man’s insane ability to keep pushing until he broke through, Shikamaru was wary that Naruto was driving himself to an early grave.

Naruto wasn’t human in the way most of them were, but Shikamaru knew no one was exempt from needing sleep and having time to recharge; he himself had been feeling crushed after nonstop work, and yet his fatigue was nothing compared to that encountered by a kage. The Uzumakis had tremendous chakra reserves and this was a godsend for someone in his position, but Naruto was flesh and blood like the rest of them. He was playing with fire and close to abusing his limits if he hadn’t already. No, Shikamaru thought, he had long gotten there.

Shikamaru knew the signs of a life falling into shambles. It was clear as day even in his own home: Shikadai was growing a little too distant from him, which was saying something because as a child, Shikamaru liked keeping people at arm’s length. The point was that he had noticed. And he did not like it. Not one bit.

He sighed. It was different now.

The chuunin had all grown up. They were adults. They were parents. They became different people, although in many different aspects, they remained the same people at heart. Naruto could be too closed off now, despite his mile-a-minute mouth in the past. He was developing this nasty habit of not saying anything or not wanting to say anything when he ought to or whenever he wanted to. Whenever he compared Now Naruto to Then Naruto, it was particularly unnerving some days. The only caveat was that maybe that was because Naruto tended to think a lot more these days—he had a village to govern and look out for after all. With responsibility comes tact, and with tact comes silence. Maybe.

The last Shikamaru had seen of Boruto, the kid did not look the least bit happy with his Pop. Little Himawari always seemed to want to spend time with her dad, but chose instead to hide behind her mother’s skirts. Her eyes were as blue as her father’s and they reflected the painful truth: a deep longing to spend time with a parent, promises that were rarely kept, and a raw confusion that she tried very hard but failed to hide.

Shikamaru braced his arms closer to his body, his forehead heavy and creasing with concern. “Your family needs you too, you know. The one you built for yourself. I think Neji would have already had words with you by this point.”

Sensing Naruto had gone stock still, he added, looking away, “Temari gives me flak. It isn’t as bad as yours. Or maybe it’s worse because Hinata never says anything. She understands. She's been so patient, that's been her trademark from the start. But don’t get comfortable with the fact that she accepts the short end of the stick. She wants a part of you. At home. And your kids do, as well.”

Shikamaru turned away. The typing had stopped. He wondered what was going through Naruto’s head.

“There are days I wonder if he would be happy with the life we’ve built for ourselves. I sometimes wish he would have had this opportunity, too. He deserved it more than anyone. I would have wanted that for him.”

Shikamaru kept his eyes on the carpet and nodded. “And he knows that.”

Overlooking the office, the Hokage monument glowed through the panoramic windows, the deeply etched outlines of Sarutobi and Tsunade, Minato and Kakashi standing out starkly against the darkness.

Naruto had had flood lights installed a few months ago. The masons had come to his office to discuss the installation of his own visage at around the same time, but he had been too busy dealing with local and international matters. Or he was just projecting a mixture of minute horror, surprise, and a whole lot of feeling modest.

It was already a given: he was always busy. He had mountains of paperwork to go through and respond to that week, like always. That, and Shikamaru took the hint that almost toppling his computer to the floor and the deep flush across fair cheeks meant that it was _a little too soon_.

It _was_ a little too soon. Everything was, for all of them. Yet, it was upon them.

Shikamaru looked at the lone cloud in the sky from his vantage point. Azuma, his dad, Ino and Choji's fathers, they had all departed from this earth, and this was his life now.

There were bad days, days when they did not know what they were doing and which made them feel uncertain, but those came and went. There were also good days, although he did not make a habit of counting or remembering them. A political adviser was more used to counting catastrophes and calamities and making sure Konohagakure got past each and every one.

He wasn’t complaining. He knew what he would be in for the moment he entered the hokage’s office. He was prepared. He had excelled at shogi, even if he did not like it. Or said that he didn’t.

It was being a father and husband and friend and adviser all at once that unnerved him. And it was being a father and husband and friend and hokage that pulled at the blond from all sides.

More or less.

“Naruto?”

He looked around. He was surprised to find two, very blue eyes boring into his own. His friend's smile was gentle, but brilliant, as it always was when he was nostalgic about something. “How did that happen?”

“What?”

“You becoming this instant family and child therapist? I’ve been spending all this time with you and I never knew you acquired another skill set. Aren’t you tired yet?” He chuckled. “Being a genius must suck.”

Shikamaru’s eyes narrowed. “If it helps sort you out, then no matter.”

Then, it finally sank in and: “Therapist? Mendokusai, the hell I am—“ He felt hot around the collar. “Don’t you try and change the subject. I am NOT letting your skirt the issue here.”

Naruto had picked the perfect opportunity to turn the tables on him. Now, he was sure he too was badly in need of some time off. Shikamaru tried very hard not to take out a cigarette and smoke on the spot (he still had Asuma’s lighter, and he bought cigarettes out of habit even though he never smoked).

When Shikamaru looked at him closely, he saw that Naruto looked highly amused. The blond pressed “Print,” took the freshly processed paper out, and put it in a folder.

“I hate you.” Shikamaru grumbled.

“I love you too, Shika.”

“Fuck.” Shikamaru rummaged through his pocket and took out the cigarette case and lighter anyway. He turned away and put one stick between his lips.

Naruto leant back in his chair, his chin resting in his palm and closed his eyes, trying to look smug. “I do know how to listen. Hard not to with a pain in the ass for an adviser.”

Shikamaru felt a certain relief blossom in his chest, but it was short-lived. He pulled the cigarette out and slowly turned to face him. “Bigger ass for a boss.” He crumpled the cigarette and pocketed it.

“Like I said, I love you too, hun.”

Shikamaru lowered his chin a fraction to stare at him. “Why’d I ever come work for you. Fuck me.”

“I told you. I don’t swing that way. But well, I guess it depends on the proposition. Maybe when Hinata won’t kill me.”Naruto chuckled again, but the blond’s flimsy bravado collapsed and melted into a grimace of fatigue that Shikamaru could not miss. Those bright eyes closed.

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow as the blond tried desperately not to give himself away.

Naruto hurried to regain his composure, laughing like an idiot the way he did back when they were genin.

Shikamaru waited with bated breath.

And was not disappointed.

Those blue eyes opened and met Shikamaru’s brown. A sheepish look stole over his friend’s face.

“You’re right. I mean, you’re rarely ever wrong…" A pause. "I’m working on it.” Naruto fell silent.

He picked up the framed photo of his family, the only one on his desk, and gave it a sad, searching look. “They didn’t sign up for this. I just…I never really had…”

He let out a breath. “Being a parent is hard when you never saw one to learn from at home.” He twisted his features into an awkward reaction that reminded Shikamaru of a baboon: “No one ever said it would be this hard.” He pouted. “I mean Iruka-Sensei and Kakashi-Sensei have been great, but we never lived in the same house or had to put up with who got to hold the remote or draw ground rules concerning who got to eat all of the instant ramen.”

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. “I follow, but don’t care, so whatever. You’re evading.”

“I’m the one who doesn’t follow. Must be all those additives in my brain. Damn, while do they make cup ramen so damn good anyway?”

“To leech money from people like you who live off of salt, colorings, and glorified bits of dehydrated fish cake.”

Shikamaru placed his arms on his friend’s desk so that they were holding him up.

He couldn’t hold the blond’s stare on some days, but on others, like today, it was not only going to be a no-brainer, it was going to be deeply necessary.

It made him uncomfortable when Naruto talked like this: it made his friend appear naked and bare to him, exposed, with no place to hide. It was Naruto’s norm to try too hard and to hide behind a veneer of his past buffoonery (which most times, no longer worked, he was too big and tall for that now). But every so often, his past would crop up and it would make Shikamaru regret the things that he had and didn’t think twice about, just expecting those things and people to be there and be that way. His mother and the Fourth had left him to get through life as an orphan. How was that shit easy?

No, he never had it easy. Not since the moment he had been born. And when Naruto talked about it, Shikamaru did not feel pity for him, just a sense of regret and wanting to protect what Naruto would call important in this life. And right now, while that meant the village, it also meant his family. So, his sanity and wellbeing as well.

So today, Shikamaru would have to play the Ultimate Adviser Card. And say it hard and plain. And not take no for an answer.

Even when he understood. Well, sort of. No way was he admitting that out loud. Or maybe, just a bit.

“I know. I’m having a hard time too. Sons are complicated and wives are…tricky.” He shook his head. “Please don’t tell Temari that I said that.”

Naruto’s eyes were warm and soft. “Of course. Until I require blackmail material, we’re all good.”

Clicking his tongue, Shikamaru closed his eyes and listened to the soft, short laughter that came from his friend, the shuffling of papers tickling his ears. A set of wheels moved backward and Naruto got out of his chair.

Something immediately pulled Shikamaru out of that relaxed moment: a heavy thud, something hard colliding with wood, and a low groan.

_The atmosphere switched with immediacy to cold and not at all good._

Shikamaru’s eyes snapped open, his heart teleporting to his throat.

Naruto was on his knees, the top of his head emerging from the other side of the table.

Shikamaru swore beneath his breath.

The blond had made to get up and hand him a folder but for some reason, his legs had given way. He looked disoriented.

Naruto was attempting to inspect his right temple; it was bleeding. The blond hair above Naruto’s right ear was stained red, coating his bandaged fingers with each prodding gesture. His eyes were on the carpet. He was breathing heavily.

Shikamaru made to hurry to his side, but Naruto raised his left hand. _Stay put._ His right hand covering the damage, Naruto gingerly found his footing and got back up. He picked up the folder and offered it to him.

He met Shikamaru’s eyes. “Here. I’ve made a draft for the speech tomorrow. It's trash, but it's all I could come up with. Look through it. I’m not sure it’s passable.”

Shikamaru stared at him, before staring at the folder, then staring back at Naruto. “I don’t think so.”

“Take it. Please. Don’t make me ask.” He sat back in his chair, all the color having drained from his face.

Shikamaru glared at him before snatching the folder with extreme force. The moment his skin came into contact with cardboard however, his grip softened, and a moment later, he set it down on the table.

He gave the Hokage a stern look. “Let me take a look at that.”

Heart thundering in his chest, he inspected the damage. “How are you feeling? What exactly happened?” He swore again. “Damn it, I was right on the money all along. That’s it. No more for tonight. That’s it.” He said it all in one breath, panic rocketing through his blood.

Naruto did not answer, simply closing his eyes, trying to breathe slowly and evenly. Shikamaru crossed over to one of the cabinet and unearthed a first aid kit, appearing thoroughly put out. He gave a small shudder, before walking back where his friend sat. “She’ll have me murdered in my bed, your wife.”

Naruto scoffed at the remark, or rather tried. “She has a name you know. Hinata’ll rip you a new one. Hahaha.”

“Can you stand?”

Naruto gripped Shikamaru’s shoulder and allowed himself to be led to a plush sofa. This piece of furniture was the only couple of square feet in his office where he could rest, and Shikamaru felt marginally better as he helped him lie down.

A gentle sizzling sound erupted and the blond sighed tiredly as the edges of the gash knitted together. “Pain’s gone.” Naruto dared to chance a look at him. “You won’t need that,” referring to the box in his hands.

Shikamaru was different shades of annoyed and terrified out of his wits. “You don’t eat, barely sleep, and you really think you can keep this up? Mendokusai, you're going to be the death of me."

It took Naruto a while to answer. His head was swimming. “I’ve exceeded expectations before.”

“Wise ass.”

“Pain in this wise ass’ butt.”

Shikamaru’s voice darkened. “Naruto, I’ll get Sakura.”

“There’s no need.”

“Tell me how you fell.”

Silence.

Then: “You saw the whole thing. I stumbled getting up."

“You know that’s a lie.”

“What?”

“You passed out for a bit.”

Naruto ran some fingers though his hair. He was looking at the picture on his desk. He then looked at his hands, one of them stained red.

After a beat: “Do you think we can end this now?”

Shikamaru shook his head. “Don’t start. You’re too pale. That tan of yours isn’t doing much to hide it. And,” Shikamaru said, touching the blond’s wrist, “you feel cold. Not to mention your pulse is racing.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been busy. Working. Reading a report seventeen pages too long.” Naruto feigned trying to look disgruntled. “You want me to go home, right? Well, I’m going now.” He extended a foot towards the carpet.

Shikamaru sat on the arm of the sofa near Naruto's feet, frowing, not moving an inch. “I want to see you try that. Try standing and watch me not collect you off the ground.”

“Empty threat, huh?” Naruto turned his head to him and looked apologetic, almost guilty. The leg went back in.

The corners of Shikamaru’s mouth dropped even further. “Naruto…”

“Hinata will worry. And I’m okay, really. I just need a nap. My head is splitting. I didn’t have much—any water today,” he said slowly, the answer dawning on him. “Twenty minutes rest and I’ll be right as rain. Throw in some water, and I'll be ready to go. I'll make a few notes for tomorrow. Then, I’m off.”

Shikamaru sighed. What a bother.

He hated straddling the damn fence, and hated it more when other people did, especially someone who was more or less his boss. Naruto needed a medic, but they both could not afford for word to get out that the Hokage was in bad shape, overworked and aiming for a stroke. Not when the Kazekage was coming over tomorrow, and definitely had to be there to welcome him. The Internal PR Team would skin his hide and wear it like a bandana to warn people of the consequences of shitting with Konohas’ image. _Ah, no._

“Twenty minutes then. I’m going to get you some real food. And some medication for that headache. Water, too. Nap. I’ll be back in a bit, then I’ll take you home myself.”

Naruto nodded briefly before settling deep into the sofa to get some rest. In less than two minutes, he was out like a light before Shikamaru could say anything much else.

Shikamaru walked across the room and opened the door.

Black, brooding, and bathed in silence, Sasuke stood in the hallway.


	2. Hello There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more the merrier. No one thinks Sasuke agrees.

“You don’t look happy.” Sasuke said, holding out a scroll. “Give this to him when he wakes.”

“You heard everything--?”

Sasuke nodded stoically. “Naturally.”

Shikamaru stood aside, giving Sasuke space to pass and the Uchiha walked in.

Locking eyes with orange, Sasuke stared at the figure on the sofa. _Was that the idiot?_

Huh, idiot does as idiot is.

_Idiot._

Up close, Naruto looked dead. His face was gaunt, his expression like that of a corpse. Sasuke looked back at Shikamaru, his pale face looking marginally, if possible, even paler. “Do I need to ask?”

The adviser leant on the door. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

Sasuke gave him a side look. “Go on.”

Shikamaru leant by the door frame and _tsked_. “He fell while trying to stand up. Hit his head on the table going down. He wasn’t making sense for a while. I told him I’d get him food and something to help with what might be a migraine.” He stepped back a few when Sasuke started carving craters into his skin with his eyes. “He wouldn’t let me help at first. I had to push back.”

Sasuke’s face was impassive, cut marble. “I see.”

“I also thought about getting Sakura.” Shikamaru’s face grew dark. “He doesn’t look good. I think he passed out at one point.”

Sasuke turned completely and looked at him; the flames of the Susanoo crackled in the depths of his black eyes. "You _think_ he passed out? Or he did?" He glowered at his classmate. “Which is it?”

"I looked outside once. When we were still talking,” Shikamaru offered, keeping his voice even. “He was on the floor next.”

Sasuke did not acknowledge this, but instead, took off his traveling cloak and draped it on the pile of documents threatening to swallow his best friend's table whole. He then strode to the center of the room and activated his Rinnegan.

As the portal opened, he spoke in a clear, low voice: “Naruto needs you. It might be his chakra. A diagnostic would be preferred.”

Clad in her usual pink and red, Sakura stepped out and into the hokage’s office. Her cheeks were a brilliant, bright blush, and she was holding a vase of flowers, but as soon as she saw Naruto, she set them down on a nearby shelf, and pulled her apron off, her eyes glinting like dangerously cut emeralds.

“Welcome home, Sasuke-kun,” she whispered gently, passing by her husband before sitting by Naruto’s side, said husband choosing not to respond as his wife took his best friend’s hand into her own.

A soothing green glow emanated from Sakura’s fingertips. “Shikamaru?”

“He apparently took a nose dive,” Sasuke supplied. “He has a flair for the dramatic.”

Sakura smirked at the answer, but suddenly looked alarmed. “His blood pressure is way too low. He must have fainted. Did he--?”

“Ten minutes ago,” Shikamaru supplied.

“Is that all?” Sasuke had moved closer to them.

“No. Shikamaru, grab those throw pillows and place them underneath his feet.” Shikamaru obliged.

Sakura ran her hands up Naruto’s arm and down his chest, before settling above his heart. “He’s exhausted. His chakra is lower than normal. Has he slept? Eaten? Not done work more than he has to? He’s so cold. Damn it.”

Gritting her teeth, the green glow intensified as Sakura coursed her healing chakra through Naruto’s pathways. “The kyuubi would normally take care of his fatigue. Stamina has never been a problem for him. But he’s doing poorly. What happened?”

_This was getting repetitive, even for Shikamaru._

“Headache. Vision blurred. About to get up. Fell down. Hit my head. Must have said some shit because Shikamaru’s nearly wet himself. Or have you already, Shika?”

Sakura gaped.

“Hello, Sakura-chan. I see Shikamaru lied. I’m fine. I don’t need anything, just sleep. Can I get up now?”

Naruto’s eyes were extremely tired, but his trademark humor peeked through those depths, the joker in him coming out to say hello. He was wide awake, or seemed to think like he appeared as though he was. “I’m not sure Sasuke would like his wife’s hands all over another man.”

“I don’t, but I’ll make an exception tonight, usuratonkachi.”

It was Naruto’s turn to gape. He hadn't seen him. How was that even possible?

“Teme, you fucking there?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Sasuke muttered.

“Hello there, asshole. I’ve missed your mug too.”

“Hnn.” The Uchiha replied. “Sakura?”

His wife had suddenly bent forward; she was inches from Naruto’s face.

“Naruto?”

The blond’s eyes were closed.

“Is he breathing?” Shikamaru asked, deathly still.

Sakura’s looked softened. “Yeah. He fell asleep.” Her fingers touched his forehead. She almost flicked him, but only Uchiha did that. No can do, friend. She instead touched his cheek for a few seconds before preparing to get to work.

Naruto, _dumbass, moron, Hokage, friend_ , needed an IV.

_Moron._

But her throat felt tight nonetheless.

She looked at her former teammate and felt a weight lodge in her soul.

The bags underneath Naruto’s eyes were dark and pronounced. He had broken into a cold sweat, his breathing slow, the end labored, almost a whine. Sakura’s fists clenched.

He was falling apart.

A hand settled onto Sakura's shoulder and she gazed up into the dark, fathomless eyes of her husband. “Steady. I’ll take him home as soon as he is able. Hinata will have been worrying. It’s almost one in the morning.”

Sakura nodded. “Thank you, Sasuke-kun.”

“You know how it is. I must’ve spoiled dinner.” Sasuke's lips looked like they had barely moved.

She smiled at her husband’s attempt to apologize. “I left the pot roast to Sarada. Let’s eat after we bring Naruto home.”

“You haven’t eaten?” said Sasuke.

“I was waiting.” Her eyes shone. “You know what today is, right?”

Sasuke closed his eyes. There was a slight softness there.

And then, just like lightning, it was gone. “We’ll talk later.”

“Will he be okay?” asked Shikamaru tentatively.

“Yessssss.”

Sakura smacked his left cheek on impulse.

“Stay asleep, baka.”

Naruto was awake again. “I need to get home. I’m feeling better.”

“Says who?" Sakura barked, fingers still trained on the underside of his wrist. "Your pulse is still slow.”

"But Sakura-channn--"

"Shut it, moron."

“Sasuke tell your wife to stop please.”

“So I’m “his wife” now, am I?”

Naruto latched unto Sakura’s hand. “Of course you are. And I think you like that. Now, let me up. Unless you fancy Sasuke seeing you ripen like a tomato. I thought that was only for his eyes.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“I DO NOT--!!”

With a sudden rush of strength, the Seventh Hokage rose from the sofa and sat up. Immediately, the sudden rush of blood to his head caused him to tip over to one side.

Complete black. Naruto couldn’t see a thing.

Fortunately, Sasuke being Sasuke, he was able to catch him. He returned Naruto to a prone position. Sakura growled. “Fucking lunatic. I told you stay down.”

A few seconds later, when the blond had caught his breath, he snickered.

“We have to stop this business of “falling for each other" and you doing all this catching, teme. It’s cramping my style. And your wife looks like she’s about to faint from apoplexy.”

Sasuke smile was like a secret door opening for the shortest of seconds. “This dumbshit. Stop bothering me then.”

Sakura cleared her throat impatiently and withdrew the small, concealed, ninja pouch she still had attached to her thigh out of habit. She took out an infusion kit. Then she began to fiddle with the tubing, and…

Naruto clucked his tongue. “Woah. Someone came prepared.” He swallowed. “No needles. I need to get home. That’ll take at least half an hour minimum. ”

“Either you stay here and try to hold yourself together so you actually get to see your family in a bit or you push it and Hinata Gentle Fists you first thing tomorrow because you couldn’t go home. I guarantee that if you try to push your luck this very minute, you’ll end up eating carpet. Your funeral, “boss.”

Naruto sighed. “Fine. But Hinata’s not to know.” He closed his eyes and grumbled, “I need to _actually live_ so I can sit at the Sand meeting tomorrow.”

His eyes scanned the room, looking strangely lost and vacant, before something clicked, and then he frowned, pouted, and then gave Sakura a dirty look, his eyes shrinking to slots, his mouth puckered. “You’re bossier than ever. I wonder how your husband puts up with that. It wasn’t this bad when we were genin. Oy, Sasuke, tell her to stop, will you? Hmph.”

Sasuke cleared his throat. He actually liked how precious this all was. But fuck that. “You can do it, ‘Boss.’”

But one person wasn't the least bit impressed. Sakura inserted the needle with a heavier hand than she intended and the hokage let out a howl before proceeding to glare at her. 

“Careful with that, you practicing that motion for stabbing something evil?," Naruto muttered, but he looked sorry for teasing her. “You know I appreciate it, why do you have to be so _uncute_?”

Sakura checked to see that IV was secure before smacking him on the right cheek this time. Now, it was even.

As the minutes ticked away, the IV now doing its job, the blond’s color seemed to improve, evidenced by how he now started to bicker with Shikamaru while also simultaneously trying to trigger Sasuke by aggravating Sakura. Naruto was too distracted and stressed to register that that he still felt very cold. Sasuke heard everything and said nothing: he had always been the smart one.

An hour later (not thirty minutes and Naruto was mad) with the cannula and tubing in the trash can, Sasuke opened a portal to the Uzumaki residence. “Shikamaru?,” Naruto inquired as he helped the blond walk.

“Yeah?”

“I need that report revised by nine. Make sure I get it first thing when I clock in. I need to practice.” He looked determinedly at an expanse of wall. “I still get the willies.”

Shikamaru sighed. “Sleep. Leave me in peace. Get your wife off my back. Fuck off for a few hours. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Naruto nodded. “Tell Temari it was my fault. Tell her I kept you.”

Shikamaru smirked, but was beside himself with worry inside. “I’ll just duck when she aims her fan.”

As Sasuke took his place at Naruto's other side and inched through the portal, Shikamaru lowered his voice and smiled at Sakura over his shoulder.

"He’s a stubborn shit. I’m not sure he’d get home in one piece.” A pause. “I leave him in your care.” He gave her a knowing look. “You know what he’s like.”

“Don’t I.” Sakura winked and followed after her husband and their friend.

As the portal closed, Shikamaru picked up the folder that Naruto had been trying to hand him earlier. His eyes zeroed in on a speck of blood on the edge, near the tab. He wiped it away.

He stood there for a while more before he turned off the light and walked out of his friend’s office.

The speck had smeared. But he hadn’t noticed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some other characters are itching to make their appearance. We'll see a few of them shorly. *Wink wink.


	3. Home, and Then Some

The Uzumaki doorstep was bathed in a warm, golden light from one of the small hedge lights partially obscured by one of the bushes. Naruto and Sasuke trudged up the three stone steps leading to the handsome oak door in silence, with Sakura bringing up the rear.

“You should come in,” breathed Naruto, struggling to keep upright.

He broke from Sasuke’s grip and straightened.

"Don't dream of becoming the welcome mat, dobe."

Naruto laughed.

Breathed in.

And out.

He was getting dizzy again. Like he had run a marathon with Guy-Sensei or something.

He pressed the doorbell.

The door sprang back. In all of three seconds.

“Tadaima," he said weakly. "We have guests, Hinata.”

“BAKA OYAJIIIII~!”

Naruto barely had the presence of mind or the energy to catch Boruto’s fist as it aimed for his cheek, but he did it. Sort of. He only had his son’s last two fingers in his fist. “Woah there. You’re still up?”

Boruto, eyes flashing, glared daggers at his father. “Okaa-san’s been waiting. You said you’d be here earlier. Much ealier.” A suspicious narrowing of blue eyes, and then, unceremoniously: “You look like shit.”

Naruto laughed. “I do, don’t I?” He scratched the back of his head. “I was—”

“Save it. You’re an asshole. Fuck off.” His son stormed back into the house.

He stared at his son’s retreating back. _Well, that wasn't very nice._ He hand went back to his side. _Oh, crap. He knew why._

He then remembered where he was and broke into an awkward laugh.

He looked behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Naruto whispered, raising a hand in apology, his pinky facing them. “I’m a bad father. Not that I’m not trying or anything.” He laughed some more. “I’m bad at almost everything.”

Sasuke hadn’t moved an inch. Sakura looked slightly embarrassed. “Don’t worry about it. Parenthood has never been a walk in the park for anyone.”

Naruto grinned. “Yeah. Better for some, worse for others.” He leaned on the door frame.

A cold wind was starting to whip through the yard and he shivered in spite of his full, orange coat.

Sakura looked at Sasuke, who nodded.

“It’s hard being a parent,” she said gently. Sasuke watched her and she added, “He doesn’t see you often, Naruto. It’s easy to be mad, or annoyed, or even distant. He misses you.”

Sasuke closed his eyes, trying to appear as though he had not understood the subtext of his wife’s words; they were true, even if he secretly wanted that to not to be the case.

“Listen, dobe. You might pick up something important.”

The blond folded his arms. A smile crept back unto his lips.

On the bottom step, his best friends came into view. Sasuke was a head taller than Sakura, but for some fascinating reason, Sakura looked, felt larger, more prominent standing next to him. Sasuke was eyeing him carefully, but every so often, Naruto thought he saw him look at his wife's back. In the amber glow, Naruto figured out why it worked.

Jiraiya-Sensei should have branched out a bit.

“Thank you.” His eyes looked damp. “Both of you.”

Not wanting to perpetuate such a sappy atmosphere, Sasuke gave his best friend a smile. “You do look like shit, after all. It was the least I could do.”

“Anata.” Sakura looked reproachful, but her face looked strangely tight. She was holding back laughter. Naruto saw it, and smirked like a damn tanuki. 

“Oooh. I’ve living for your ‘anata’ bullshit, teme. Oy, Sakura, put that kunai away!”

“Anata.”

Naruto followed the sweet, mellow sound of his wife’s voice, whipped around, and met her eyes. They reminded him of mother of pearl. “Hinata—”

Lavender hair caressing the sides of her face, Hinata reached a hand out to him and touched his cheek. “I was worried.” Her eyebrows were stormy, but her gaze was warm, concerned. “It’s so late.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “You look dead on your feet.”

To which Naruto chuckled, his hand automatically moving to the back of his head and starting to scratch again. “I’m fine. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it on time.” He gave a dejected grin, before smiling a wider smile that fooled no one, least of all his eagle-eyed wife. “He has every right to want to punch me.”

Hinata’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say a word. After a beat, she touched his arm. “I’ll talk to him. You’d better come inside. It’s getting cold.”

Had the Hyuuga heiress been the same timid, reserved girl she was years back, she would have jumped as two figures shifted behind her husband.

She hadn’t noticed that they were there. She wasn’t in the habit of activating her Byakugan at home, even when Naruto was out until very late. He could handle his own, and everyone knew that. Also, for some reason, it made Boruto extremely scared. He wouldn’t say anything on the matter, but she didn’t fancy having to clean up after he vomited and peed where he stood.

But while she could be extremely wary in secret, there was no reason to just now: she recognized both faces. They were always welcome to come to the house. 

She looked over her husband’s shoulder and smiled. “Sasuke-kun, Sakura-chan, thank you for making sure he got home. Come in. Please have some tea. And dinner too.”

“That’s kind,” said Sasuke. “Thank you. But my wife left Sarada at home. It’d be best we get back.”

“Are you sure, guys?” Naruto looked a tiny bit surprised. “Sarada is welcome to join us, of course.”

Sasuke glanced at Naruto, praying to the gods that his brain would work just this once, before turning to Hinata. “We ran into each other on the way out. I hope you don’t mind us keeping him. We had to talk and he was preoccupied when I came by."

He gave Naruto a penetrating look." We passed Sakura in the street while I was walking him home. We circled the village a fair few times before that.”

Internally, Naruto flinched. _That sounded shady as hell, Sasuke._

Sakura snuck a look at her husband and then looked at Hinata. “Sorry about that.”

Hinata studied them both for a while, and Naruto felt his heart start to hammer behind his breastbone. Shit.

But all Hinata did was smile in response; she did not look perturbed in the least. Instead, she nodded, tucking a stray lock of hair between one ear. “Thank you for making sure my husband didn’t fall into a ditch somewhere.”

Sakura smiled back while Sasuke looked unsure, wondering whether to roll his eyes or snort.

“The hell—”

Naruto felt something constrict and expand somewhere inside him, before said unknown pushed him head-first into a world of pitch black.

Before he could grab the doorframe, Naruto felt himself sliding down towards the ground.

"Naruto!"

"Anata!"

Naruto was on his knees again, shaking and breathing heavily. His vision didn’t seem to be working. He could hear voices, they must’ve been shouting, but he found it hard to believe: they all sounded so distant.

Despite trying to figure out what was being said, all he heard was muffled, garbled noise.

“Anata!” Hinata held Naruto’s face in her hands, trying to get him to look at her. “Naruto, what’s wrong?”

Sakura felt for his carotid. She paled. “That’s too low—”

And just like that, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Naruto suddenly slumped forward. A flash of black and two pale hands had caught his head before he hit the ground.

“Sakura!” Sasuke barked. He positioned Naruto’s head in his lap.

Sakura checked to see if he was still breathing. He was, but short, rapid breaths were never a good thing. “Put him on the ground.”

Hinata held his hand, beside herself with worry. “Tell me what to do, Sakura.”

“Help me get him completely flat. Make sure his arms and legs are fully extended.” Hinata nodded, and arranged Naruto’s limbs as instructed.

Sakura spat like an angry cat. “I told him to watch it.” Adrenaline flooding her body, she aggressively scanned his body.

Blood pressure low, heart rate low, respiration, short, fast, and shallow.

_This fucking asshole._

She pumped healing chakra aggressively into him, grinding her teeth together. “You’re all right. You’re all right. Wake up, moron. This is so not all right at all.”

A few heartbeats later, they heard it.

“Kurama, no fair. I said I was going to bed.” He swallowed thickly, and opened his eyes to reveal a dazed, vacant blue. “I feel so...heavy.”

“Naruto, listen to me.”

“Sakura-chan?”

“You passed out again.”

“Again?” Hinata hiccoughed. She looked at Sakura then at her husband, who looked extremely stiff. “Sasuke-kun, tell me.”

But Sakura cut across. “Hinata, it’s stress. He wasn’t well earlier. I’ll give you all the details in a while, let’s get Naruto inside first. I’d like to do a diagnostic. A more thorough one.”

“How about your wedding anniversary, Sasuke?” Naruto blurted out.

The Uchiha blanched and Sakura blushed, but they were both determined to ignore this statement. Sakura, however, was the first to recover. “Shut up and mind your own darn business, baka,” she barked dismissively. “We need to take care of you first.”

“Yeah.” The blond sighed, talking out loud to himself. “I’m ripping other families apart now too. They need to get me an award, really.”

Hinata, who had been worried the entire time, instantly looked cross. “Don’t say that. You’re ill and you’re tired. And they don’t like this but they understand.” She touched one of the whisker marks on his cheek. “Just, don’t try to do this every so often. We’re all getting white hair before we should.”

“Are you still feeling lightheaded?” Sakura inquired, fingers still at his neck.

“No. Starting to feel my hands and feet again. Sasuke—”

Sasuke turned to Sakura. “Is that wise?”

“You have ten seconds. Can we borrow your couch, Hinata?”

The Uchiha helped Naruto to his feet, one hand underneath his armpit, the other, pulling the blond’s dangling arm, steadying Naruto's wonky sense of balance.

“Like you said, stop all this business of falling for me, loser.” Sasuke smiled, his eyes bright. "I mean, you look okay, but I won't ever hit that, if that's what you'd like to know."

Naruto almost choked. “Stuff it, teme. You're doing all of this hero-saving thing just to get my attention. You have, just not the right kind. I’ll kick your ass six ways to Sunday.”

Sasuke quirked an eyebrow. “I’d be amused if that were actually possible.”

“Give me a sec.” Naruto quirked an eyebrow right back at him. “You won’t look so hot.”

"I'd like to see you try, fucknut."

Hinata threw open the front door and shepherded the group into the living room. She pointed to a couch. “Over here.”

Sasuke set Naruto down and he retreated to one side. Sakura positioned herself near his chest. 

Hinata looked nervous. “Sakura?”

Naruto’s eyes had fluttered closed.

Sakura activated her healing chakra and placed her hand at the center of his chest. “Naruto, can you hear me?”

Naruto's eyes opened slightly before he grimaced and shut them hurriedly. “What? Am I home already?” His tone was gravelly, his speech slurred.

“He’s disoriented. _Shit_.” Sakura’s looked darkened. "We might need _more help._ " 

Hinata, who had had been at her husband’s side, suddenly left the room. She returned a moment later with a small basin of water and a washcloth. Her fingers trembled as she soaked the square of linen and then placed it on Naruto’s forehead.

A small sigh escaped the blond’s lips. “That feels good. Thank you, whoever that was. Are we at the hospital? Tsunade Baa-chan isn't going to let me hear the end of this.”

The Hyuuga heiress looked beside herself. She picked up Naruto’s hand and held it to her cheek.

Sasuke looked away. He felt uncomfortable, intruding on such an intimate moment.

“I don’t mind the lie. Not really, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke turned to her, waiting for the wrath of Best Friend’s Wife to fall on his head.

But Hinata had resumed her cool, even tone, and he was able to resume breathing normally again. “Could you check if the children are still awake? Himawari didn’t want to eat without him and Boruto...he loves his sister so...” Her voice faltered and died.

He nodded, relieved. “I’ll be right back.” Sasuke walked out of the living room and made his way up the stairs.

The two wives were all alone now. All that broke the silence was the quiet breathing of the Hokage in his own house, and the soothing hum of healing chakra being coursed into his body.

“Sakura?” Hinata’s voice was soft but determined. “How is he?”

Sakura was just about to bite through her bottom lip. “Not so well.”

“I see. Should I get the children?”

Sakura gave her a side glance. “Don’t worry, Hinata. He’s strong. He’s always been such a fighter. Not even Madara could stop him. Not even having half of Kurama removed.” The glow beneath her palms intensified as her brows knitted. “He’s just a big idiot.” She shook her head. “He always pushes himself too far.”

She took one hand off Naruto’s chest and reached her palm out to the hokage’s wife. Hinata took it.

“Husbands,” the medic breathed, shaking her head. Hinata’s worry seemed to ease away from her body. The soft tinkle of laughter lifted the gloom from the room and Hinata squeezed her hand.


	4. Up and Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Sharedo. Your comment made my day. Have another chapter, fresh off the keyboard. :)

Sasuke found Boruto’s door and stepped up to it. Unlike how new the boy always seemed to look--the impeccable jacket, the healthy, vibrant glow in his cheeks, a body that had filled out well--the door to his room looked ancient, like it had been in the Third Great Ninja War itself. The surface had chips and cracks and scratches on the surface.

This door looked out of place.

It felt like it did not belong to the owner. He wondered why.

And then it dawned on him.

_Scars_ , he thought, everything clicking into place. _They looked like scars._

_Maybe they did belong after all._

He knocked.

“FUCK OFF, OYAJI!”

Sasuke’s eyebrows did not move an inch. Not a single inch.

He said nothing.

“If that’s you, Okaa-chan, I’m not coming out!”

Sasuke still said nothing.

“Otou-chan?”

“You wish I was your father.” Sasuke finally said.

The floorboards creaked and bounced with steps coming from the other side and the door opened with a particularly powerful wrench.

“Sasuke-san?” His voice was timid now.

Sasuke took a minute to look at his best friend’s son. His eyes were hesitant, almost fearful. They were also possibly bluer than Naruto’s.

Sky-dipped.

Water-drenched.

Ocean-full.

Stubborn, immature, selfish, and that of a boy's completely. 

“Come downstairs.”

Boruto scowled, hiding behind the half-open door. “If he told you to come get me, I’m not going.”

“Your father said nothing of the sort.” Sasuke muttered. “As a matter of fact, he said nothing at all. He actually physically couldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Boruto asked, appearing curious and suspicious at the same time. "You're not making sense. Also, it's almost two in the morning and my brain isn't working." His look darkened. "He can eat by himself, he's so bent on keeping only himself company."

Something akin to a thread snapping did so with so much force that Sasuke, cool as he always was, smiled.

Baring his teeth.

A malevolent energy surged through his veins. 

His muscles tensed.

Boruto. Better. Bolt.

It had been quite some time since he had felt _rage_ stroke his consciousness in this way again.

But then saw something in the boy's face:

the jealousy,

the petulance,

the worry and the thirst to be seen.

The desire to be strong. To not give in. To want to be dealt with seriously. The need to not feel small. Or inferior. Or powerless. 

Images of Itachi crossed his mind.

The soft gaze of an onii-san. The gentle reprimands. The firm commands. Trips made while sitting on his back. Shuriken practice. Not making any of the targets, and watching the fluid flick of his onii-san's wrist and the satisfying _shfunk_ as steel bit into wood.

The flick on the forehead. The silences that he had always been afraid to break. The burden he had been carrying around, quietly, without protest, and the agony it must have been. 

Of perseverance and patience and home.

Of his lack of perspective, emotional tides, and extreme restlessness.

It had barely been three seconds. 

His eyebrows still stayed in place.

It was no longer in his nature to give in to terrible, terrifying thoughts. Or to act on them. And not care what happened afterwards. Not since he was nineteen. Not since he had decided that he wanted to put his life back together, even when he did not know how, or if he deserved to even still have one. He had used his time wisely. Sakura and the others had helped him through it. All that effort, all that time in The Forest, he would never take it for granted or render it of no value.

So Sasuke turned away. 

“Come downstairs. I don’t have time for words.”

The young Uzumaki stood his ground. “Why? What happened anyway?”

Sasuke breathed out and looked him squarely in the eye. “Does it matter? I thought you wanted to hole up in your room.”

“Please, I--he promised he’d be home.” Boruto looked hesitant, but then decided to soldier on. “Himawari was so excited to have him all to herself tonight. Mama had this elaborate feast planned out. Everything had been reading since six. I had to watch her face drop. You don't know what it's like, having a sibling.”

Sasuke drew one step closer to him, away from the stairs. "Of course, _I don't_. He died."

Fear distorted the boy's face and he cowered behind the door, raising his hands. "I, I, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"I won't repeat myself." 

Not waiting for a reply, he strode away.

Boruto seemed to be glued to the spot.

"Sasuke-san...Is he..."

Sasuke stopped at the head of the stairs and allowed his eyes to descend the steps.

“Your father passed out. Twice. Earlier at the office, and just a few minutes after he arrived. My wife is taking care of him downstairs.”

Weight shifted and something made a choking noise. From out of the corner of his eyes, Sasuke watched as Boruto’s shoulders sagged.

The next minute later, a blur of yellow flashed past him and down the stairs in a thunder of footsteps.

Why did that remind him of someone?

Sasuke dismissed the thought just as easily from his mind.

“Stupid old man.”

Sasuke peered down. 

On the third to last step, still cleverly obscured by part of the wall, the young blond sat in a heap.

Sasuke pretended not to hear the sniffle that followed after that and the solid punch that shook the wooden railing.

He descended the stairs.

* * *

It felt like coming up for air after a lifetime underwater.

He did not know where he had been, if It had been right, but his mind had been at peace in whatever deep he had descended to.

Just as he was getting comfortable with the feeling, however, something that oddly felt like a hand forcibly latched onto him and dragged him through feet of water, all of what he was hurtling at breakneck speed toward the surface.

He had no other alternative but to follow.

He did not have the choice or the strength to resist.

The moment he broke through the last few centimeters of water, his consciousness finally making contact with the waking world, he instinctively breathed in. It was an effort, struggling to meet the entirety of a full, deep breath. The abrupt entry of oxygen into his lungs taxed the muscles in his chest, and each band responded by treating him to pain as each one was forced to expand to make room for the new, alien occupant.

As his mind began to piece itself back together, a feeling of complete sensation and weight returned to his extremities. It felt like he was being reacquainted with his appendages once more--like he had initially left his body at some stage and was now returning to it--now fully aware again of his arms and legs and shoulders and back. This state of unknown brought him closer to a state of real, genuine awareness.

No sooner had the first breath left him though when an immediate, intense and crushing rush of fatigue flooded his senses.

A groan escaped his lips.

_Oh, God._

He wanted it to stop.

_Stop. Stop._

_Stop._

_Stop it, please_.

It felt awful.

Spirit-shattering.

“Anata?”

“Naruto? Can you hear me? Are you coming out of it?”

His hearing had not returned completely.

Everything sounded so distorted, warped beyond belief.

If he wanted to, he could very well go back to sleep, sink back into the soothing darkness.

He wanted to go back

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Something that felt very much like words were connecting and getting lost between his ears and his brain.

A calming scent caught his nose and he instinctively breathed in deeply.

_Lavender._

_Lily of the valley._

_Sweet, but soothing._

_Gentle, and grounding._

_Hinata._

His eyes snapped open. “Where…?” he croaked, his eyes unbearably dry.

Something or someone shrieked, but he couldn't be certain.

The light from somewhere to his right threatened to blind him.

He swore. “Oh God, fuck, my eyes.”

He retreated behind his eyelids and then hid behind one of his arms for good measure.

He felt weak, flu-like, like Pain and him had gone a few rounds. His heart pulsed with slow, exaggerated beats despite how tense he felt.

Anxiety was building in his very core.

He began to shake.

He felt nauseous.

A soft hand tightened its grip over his fingers.

He broke free and curled his fingers tight around a slender wrist. He vaguely registered that the touch of skin was one he was familiar with before his mind wandered for a few minutes, caught between the valley of discomfort and the choice to let go.

_Let me drift off again…_

Behind his eyelids, a glow of some sort burned. He sensed it: a hand, palm-down, on his chest, the other one traveling down his sternum, fingers firmly tracing a pattern unto his skin.

He felt warmth seep into him as the light, which seemed to be green, intensified. It helped somewhat, and he felt less likely to break into another cold sweat, despite the roar of panic that was steadily rising to a piercing ring in his ears. He summoned all of his willpower and put his remaining strength into focusing on the source of healing, wishing it would keep him grounded to the present, aware that his consciousness was beginning to fade in and out again.

_The ocean was calling him back..._

He began to breathe through his mouth, willing himself to take deep, even, and steady breaths.

“Naruto, I know you’re feeling horrible, but if you can hear me, open your eyes.”

He knew that voice. It was Sakura.

What was Sakura doing--wherever the hell he was.

Was he still at his office? Where was Shikamaru? Why was it all so strange?

No.

This wasn’t his office. The smells were different. He had come home--he couldn’t remember when exactly--but Sasuke and Sakura had brought him home.

He was home.

He had to get up.

He opened his eyes.

Why did he feel like he was doing a lot of that today?

It took a while for his eyes to adjust, but the image of two women swam into view.

“Hinata?” His wife sat behind-- “Sakura-chan?,” he rasped. “Did I--?”

Sakura nodded, grief lines etched into her face. “A little over thirty minutes ago. If you had clocked in at an hour, I was going to take you in and have you admitted. This isn’t normal. Not just fatigue.” Her green eyes bored into him with concern. “Has this happened before?”

Naruto blinked. “No. Never.”

The blond watched as his former teammate’s brow deepened, her look grave. She traced one of her fingers downward and settled on a branch to the left of his chest, covering it with her right palm. “Is there any pain here?”

Hinata’s covered her husband’s hand with her free hand, her fingers tightening significantly as the question washed over her. Naruto’s eyes traveled to her face and he gave her a weak but nonetheless reassuring smile. “I’m fine. And the answer is no. Again.”

The green light subsided and Sakura straightened up. She looked her friend from head to toe, before settling into a silence, suddenly lost in thought. When she came back to them, she wore an expression of resoluteness.

“I don’t like it when you get that look on your face, Sakura-chan."

Sakura laced her fingers together.

"You might as well talk to me,” Naruto spoke up, feeling uncomfortable but knowing that the discussion was going to be necessary. “I’m going to be fine. _I am fine._ Please tell me that I’m going to be okay.”

Sakura glanced at Hinata, before turning to look at him. “You’ll have to cancel that meeting tomorrow. I’m afraid you need to undergo some tests.”

Naruto looked stricken. “Ano sa—“

She scowled. “And I’m not giving you a free pass. You’re not dying anytime soon, and certainly not without me giving it my best shot. That means me tying you to a bed if I have to.”

_“Kinky._ But Sakura-chan—!!” Naruto’s eyes had widened. “Gaara--I have to attend to Suna tomorrow—”

“You hired an adviser for a reason.” She gave him a cool, dangerous look, not unlike the one Sasuke wore when about to do battle. “Don’t push your luck. I can just as easily ask Hinata to put you out, but I’m more diplomatic than that.”

Sakura eyed Hinata, before looking back at him and adding: "Or I can do it too, if you want. I doubt Hinata will have a problem with it. I'm not exactly hard to ask, you know." She fixed her gloves testily, her fingers bursting with aggression.

Hinata shook her head. She dropped to her knees, carded her long, thin finger through his hair, and gave him a worried smile. It faded away not long after. 

“Anata…”

For the blond had closed his eyes (again) before proceeding to hit himself in the forehead with his fist.

“I’m failing at being a father. And now, I’m failing at this job too. Damn it.” He bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Sakura frowned. “It isn’t like that—“

Hinata took Naruto's left hand in hers. 

“Sakura-chan, is it not possible for him to attend the meeting, even for half an hour?”

It was Sakura’s turn to gape at the hokage’s wife. “Hinata, he’s in no shape to--”

Looking determinedly away from the pink-haired kunoichi, the Hyuuga heir met her husband’s eyes with a pronounced look. “I know. But he’s always been so stubborn. He’ll find a way to still go. And even if he did listen and decided to rest instead, I know that he still wouldn’t be able to sleep through the night because he wouldn’t have been able to do his job.” Hinata brought the back of Naruto’s hand to her lips. “Please.”

Naruto was at a loss for words.

Hinata was trembling; her fingers were now tangled with his own, and he felt her fear vibrate in his hand; her pulse was a little too rapid to be normal.

“I’m sorry, Hinata,” he whispered in a small voice. "I'm such a horrible husband, aren't I?"

Hinata gave him the smallest of nods. "Don't apologize." She understood for what reason it was that she had to be strong. “You’ve given me such a fright, but I’m no stranger to challenge or the need for patience.”

An arm squeezed Sakura’s shoulder from behind.

She gasped, surprised.

Sasuke gave a small nod, and Sakura understood.

Sasuke held on. “I’ll keep an eye out. I’ll make sure he’s brought to you as soon as he’s through.”

He looked back at his best friend. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Naruto replied, closing his eyes.

“I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.”

“Make it eight.”

“Sakura--” Sasuke gave her an inquiring look.

Sakura shook her head and sighed. “All right, idiot. But don’t push your luck. I swear you’re going to be the death of me.”

The blond chuckled tiredly. “That makes three of you. Shikamaru is always calling things."

"Moron."

"Nope. I'm a careful man. Sasuke would make sure to finish what he started with that Chidori of his through my chest if I messed up with you. Uh, nope, no thanks, I’m good. Too much ramen left in the world for me to eat. I'll stick to the plan.”

Sakura raised a hand and threatened to slap him for the third time today. “You’re suddenly in a good mood.”

“Thank you, Sakura-chan,” he murmured, eyes fluttering close. "Thank you, Sasuke's defenderrrrr."

* * *

Right where Sasuke last left him, sat Boruto, his expression murky, complex, and pained.

He had watched the whole exchange.

He balled his hands into fists.

“Stupid old man. Can’t do anything right. His word’s as good as shit. Then he comes home like this and scares the kami out of Okaa-san.”

He stood up and gave the group a wistful glance. But then he faltered, and aimed a punch at the wall, before stopping a few millimeters before it made contact.

“I hate that this is happening to you. You’re supposed to be much more stronger than this. Hokage this, hokage that. They all look up to you, say you’re this amazing hero. That you’re strong. Well, fuck that. _Liar_.”

He ascended the stairs, looking somewhere between annoyed and afraid, his footsteps noiseless on the wooden steps. The stairs were soon deserted. In the distance, a door slammed shut, almost clean right off its hinges.

_Nice ending there. Real cool, kid._

Unbeknownst to him, Sasuke had seen it all; he was too good at concealing himself, even while in plain sight. It was likely that Boruto had just been so worried that he had dropped his guard for a short while, not sensing the older man as he battled with his inner demons.

Even without his Rinnegan or Sharingan, Sasuke saw it. He saw the hostility, fear, and concern intertwined like a many-headed beast of prey in the eyes of his best friend’s son.

He also saw the regret Boruto harbored.

Including the two, quiet tears that had escaped and snaked down the length of his face which he hurriedly wiped away with an angry hand before he trudging towards the second floor.

Sasuke leant against the wall opposite the stairs. After a few solid minutes, he turned towards the stairs and made his way up. He needed to check on the younger Uzumaki child. As his right foot hit the first step--

“Oji-san?”

The Uchiha looked up.

His eyes widened.

Crouched behind the wooden bars of the balustrade was Himawari.

Had she been there the whole time?

_This kid has serious stealth skills_ , thought Sasuke, just a tiny bit surprised. And impressed. 

Sasuke tried to rearrange his features so that he wouldn’t look intimidating or constipated or plain, well, they called it his “mean face.” “Do you want to come down and eat?”

He hadn’t felt her presence at all.

He vaguely remembered that Boruto was deathly afraid of his little sister.

A soft smile played on his lips.

“Your mother told me to come find you.”

Large blue eyes looked back at him sadly as a frown emerged on her lips. “No. I wanted to eat with Papa.” Himawari smiled apologetically. “He’s rarely home, you see. Mama wasn’t happy when she heard me say that. And I think onii-chan outright became mad when I told him I’d wait for Papa. All night, if I had to.”

Sasuke was now at the top of the stairs. “Well, why don’t we eat? Boruto--”

“I don’t think Nii-chan wants to,” she whispered, downcast.

“Wasn’t it that you wanted to have dinner with everybody available?”

Himawari nodded. “Uh huh. But I’m not sure--Nii-chan is--”

Sasuke walked past her and stopped in front of a very familiar door. “We’ll have a training session in three days. Offer expires in ten seconds. Dinner. Downstairs. Now.”

Sasuke heard something or someone gasp, a crash, a bang, and then--again, that blond blur rushed past.

In all his years since the matter with Kaguya had been slammed shut, Sasuke had never seen what could possibly be the second coming of The Yellow Flash flit like well, a flash, so fast. He was certain he had never heard stairs creak and shudder so much in his life.

The little girl beamed. “You get him to do what I want. I like you, Uncle Sasuke.”

Sasuke returned the smile, feeling vaguely pleased with himself and with Naruto's _bad, bad daughter_. “I think I like you as well. Now, come down and let’s eat. I’ll tell you stories about your Papa. I think you’ll enjoy them.”

* * *

Naruto was surprised, to say the least.

When he was well enough to get up and walk, he padded into the dining area, Sakura hovering behind him.

He stopped and faced her. He decided to choose his words very carefully. “Perhaps you should go get Sarada.”

Sakura’s eye’s bulged and she blanched. “Oh God. Sasuke—“

Emerging from the other side of the house, Sasuke drew level with Naruto. “Are you well enough to be up?”

“Just about.” Naruto nodded, sighing. “I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow. Like I promised. Hey, Sakura-chan, remember what I just said—“

Sasuke had to ease back a few inches as Sakura launched herself forward. “Sarada,” Her tone wavered, on the verge of tears. “She must be worried sick. Can we--?”

Raising a hand, Sasuke patted his wife’s head. He wordlessly went to a corner of the room, and activated the Rinnegan.

“Sarada? We’re both sorry. We’re joining them for dinner.”

“Who?” came the startled cry.

“Naruto and his family.”

The young Uchiha shrieked. “Dinner with The Seventh?”

Sasuke gave the smallest of nods. “Don’t be loud. Come. Now.”

A few seconds later and a high-heeled, small boot-sandal touched down unto the carpet. The young Uchiha was red in the face (what was it with Uchiha women and liking the color too much?). She straightened up, before surveying the group and spotting Naruto.

She gave a bow. "Thank you for having me, Nanadaime-sama."

"Welcome, Sarada." Naruto beamed. He gave Sasuke a snide look. "How come you're nothing like her? Sure shes' your daughter, teme?"

"Careful, Naruto. That offer I mentioned? It's still on the table, moron." Sakura chirped, a vein pulsing visibly in her temple.

Sarada looked at her parents. Smiled. And raised a camera, taking a shot. “Happy Anniversary, Dad. And you too, Mom.”

So there was Sasuke, caught off guard, a surprised Sakura, a Naruto laughing his head off, and a Hinata shaking her head, but giggling as well. 

"Oh, so I guess she _is_ your daughter after all." Naruto said, clutching his side from the wave of laughter that was taking over. "Huh, never would have thought."

But ten minutes later, that wasn’t what struck Naruto as odd.

His son was already at the table.

Before anyone else was.

And he had a sickeningly sweet, somewhat lopsided smile on his face.

Himawari sat down next to her brother, to Naruto’s left. Sakura sat across him, beside Sasuke, who was himself sitting beside Hinata. Sarada had more than enough room at the end of the table.

At this exact time, Hinata entered with a steaming pot of stew and sat at the head of the table, facing all of them.

“Itadakimasu.” They chanted in unison.

The sounds of chopsticks and china clinking gently filled the room.

And thus, Round One began.

“Miracle worker, huh, Sasuke?” Naruto looked at his best friend, who said nothing, and wore no expression in particular.

Himawari smiled. “Boruto listens to Uncle Sasuke, Papa.” She looked at her brother, who inched away from the table. She then looked at her dad. “How come he rarely listens to you, Papa? Aren’t you “cool” like him as well?”

The hokage nearly choked into his bowl of miso soup, causing Hinata to rub his back. He looked up, a furious blush dusting his cheeks, cackling like a mad man. “Nah. No one could beat Sasuke, not even when we were kids.” He put his chopsticks down. “And he’s always had that cool guy attitude. Look, he’s ignoring us!”

“I’m ignoring you, moron,” came the Uchiha’s smooth reply, perfectly replying in between two mouthfuls of rice and shredded fish.

“Papa,” Sarada rebuked. “You’re being rude.”

Sakura looked at her husband, blushed, and tried to hide it behind a well-timed sip of water.

"Yeah, Sasuke, what a _bad house guest you are."_

“Anata, you’ve barely eaten anything.”

Naruto chortled nervously. Hinata’s eyes were scary.

Byakugan or no, very little escaped her notice. That is to say, nothing did.

Ever.

There was no point trying to throw the wool over those powerful peepers.

Naruto took a sip of water and wiped his mouth before answering. “I’m not really that hungry.”

The blond was certain those lavender eyes had suddenly glowed.

“Please don’t skewer your husband with a Gentle Fist. Sakura called that, but I'd rather you didn't. He’s just risen from the grave. He doesn’t want to go back. Not really.”

Hinata gave him a dirty look, before giggling. “I don’t know what to do with you. Eat what you can. Don’t make me worry. Please.”

Naruto’s fingers crept towards his chopsticks and picked them up again. “I’ll try.”

“Well, that’s a first,” sniggered Sasuke. “Following some sort of diet to impress the ladies, Hokage- _sama_?”

Naruto stared. “Did you just _snigger_ at me, teme?”

“Are you deaf as well as stupid, usuratonkachi? Eat your damn rice.”

Naruto’s eyes narrowed to slits. "One of these days, I'm gonna wipe that smug look right off your face, asshole." He pouted, grabbed his chopsticks with a huff, and shoved food into his mouth. “There? Happy?”

“About you being disgusting and spraying me with food? No,” came the suave reply.

“Are you snickering at me now? That’s worth ten levels up on the Sasuke Assholery Scale.”

“Shut up and eat, stupid old man.”

Naruto looked down the line. “Was that you, Boruto?”

The young Uzumaki heir rolled his eyes. “To quote Uncle Shikamaru: mendokusai.”

“SASUKE, TEME, HOW’D YOU DO THAT? IS THAT WHAT THEY CALL VENTRILOQUISM OR SOMETHING?”

As Naruto and Sasuke volleyed back and forth, food flying like projectiles from one end of the conversation, Sakura shook her head and gave Hinata an incredulous look: “I’m surprised he hasn’t changed all this time.” She stole a look at her blond team mate. “I forgot he could get so animated.”

The hokage was waving a piece of nori with an alarming rate of speed between two chopsticks. Sasuke was doing his best to not pay attention, but his right hand was oddly tense, as if anticipating a sudden blow. Naruto didn’t have the slightest clue though. Sasuke rebuked him with a single word and the blond almost stabbed himself in the throat, shoving another morsel of food into his mouth.

“Hinata, can I have a word?” Sakura gave a very short, quick nod towards the sink. The Hyuuga looked momentarily surprised, but then immediately nodded right back. “Hima-chan, make sure your onii-chan finishes his daikon.”

Boruto paled as his sister leant over to survey his plate. Himawari smilled. “Wakatta, Mama.”

A chair inched further back. "Ah, I promise. I'll eat all of it. I will. Honest."

"Of course you will, oniiiiii-chaaaan."

Hinata headed towards the kitchen with Sakura following closely behind her.

“Sasuke will come pick him up in a few hours. Shikamaru will be briefed. I’m sure Sasuke will have words so that Konohamaru can be an extra set of eyes, ears, and hands for him tomorrow. As soon as the meeting concludes, they’ll bring him to me at the hospital. I hope that’ll bring your blood pressure down.”

Leaning against the sink, Hinata squeezed Sakura’s arms: “More than you think possible.” She beamed. “Thank you for all this, Sakura. I’m so sorry we got in the way.”

Sakura waved a hand. “It’s no trouble at all. Just so long as he outlives us all, I’m fine with that. But he should definitely reconsider his working hours. It’s doesn’t benefit anyone, least of all him, if he has to come back from something severe. That is, if it is still possible…”

Hinata was subdued. “I know what you mean. And I appreciate your honesty. I don’t know where we’d be without you. Where Naruto would be without you. Both of you.”

“Delicious.”

“What?” Hinata wasn’t sure she heard right.

There was a mischievous twinkle in Sakura’s eyes. “I actually made a cake. Chocolate, with a hint of coffee, and loads of cream. Can you wait a bit?”

“Sure. Uh, do you mean you’re going to ask Sasuke to help you get to your house and back?”

“He can’t say no to his wife on their anniversary. Sit tight, Hinata. You’ll love it. I know I need something rich and decadent to soothe my nerves and shut them boys up.”

“Sasuke must be scared of you,” Hinata started to laugh, opening a few cupboards and taking out saucers, a cake server, and some forks.

“Oh, positively terrified.” Sakura gushed, before hurrying back to the dinner table. 

"I don't doubt it." Hinata laughed into her hands, following behind her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in stages years ago, but only had the time and discipline to clean this up today (last three or four hours now). This is the story I desperately looked for on AO3, but could not find. So here I am giving this a go. I think I'm having a little too much fun playing around with our three Konaha Bois. I hope you enjoy this as well.


End file.
